Things Forgotten
by DuckofIndeed
Summary: Terra loved Kefka more than anything. That's why she just wanted to forget.
1. Chapter 1: The Lab

I have read several stories involving Kefka raising Terra, and I always found them to be really interesting, and so I began writing a version of my own, only to find out all kinds of new info on Kefka's backstory in the FFVI Ultimania. Apparently, he didn't go crazy until he was 32, and this got me thinking. In my original version of this story, Kefka is insane the entire time Terra knows him, but I thought it would be far more interesting if he was nicer at first and goes insane later because it would make for a better story if Terra loses someone she once cared about rather than someone who's horrid since the day they met.

Anyway, before we get started, the characters, locations, etc. in this story are property of the wonderful Squeenix, who I wish still made games as awesome as they did 20 years ago.

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**Things Forgotten**

**Chapter 1: The Lab**

Terra began her life, or at least, what she could remember of it, somewhere cold. It was cold in many ways, but the temperature she could learn to live with. There were needles and long, flexible tubes filled with various liquids, and they said they were only doing these things because she was special, but if that was true, why did they have to do things to her that hurt and made her feel sick?

She spent the early years of her life this way, either undergoing the tests she didn't know the purpose of or kept in a cell with little else but a cot and a stuffed chocobo doll for company. They said it was for her own safety, so she couldn't leave the lab and get lost, but she thought it might also be because things would sometimes catch on fire when she was around. They said she was the one doing it, because she was capable of magic, but how could she be doing something when she didn't even mean to?

Eventually, these tests began on other people, as well, tests they said were supposed to make them capable of magic just as she was. By now, she had learned to better control her magic, only using it when the scientists told her to, and Dr. Cid began to let her out of her cell, leaving the door unlocked so she could come and go as she pleased, just so long as she never left the lab, not that she had any reason to. As much as she disliked it here, she had her doubts the world outside would be any better. He even let her stay in his office during the day, and she spent far more time in there than anywhere else because it was much more comfortable than her cell and the lighting was better and his chair wasn't as hard as her cot.

But, sometimes she would grow curious and wander out into the hallway to watch the people they brought in. Many of them were scared, and she couldn't blame them. Not only did they have to have the needles and the tubes put in their skin, but they were also hooked up to a new device she had never seen before. Just the size of it and the green liquid she could see through the glass windows in its surface sent her heart pounding in her chest. But, the worst part of all was the screaming. She couldn't watch anymore once the screaming started, and she'd run into Dr. Cid's office and hide in the corner, but no matter how hard she pressed her hands to her ears, she could never completely keep out the sound.

Countless people came into the lab to be tested on and held in cells like hers when the tests were over. Dr. Cid said it was so that he and the other scientists could keep an eye on them and record any side effects the people might have, but she didn't know what those side effects were. All she _did_ know was that, eventually, she never saw those people again, but she never saw them leave, either.

But one day, as Terra watched Dr. Cid from a chair in the corner of his office, with her arms wrapped around her knees, she saw the first smile she had seen in a long time on his tired face, and when she asked him what it was for, he told her that he had finally found someone who had not only managed to last through far more tests than anyone else before him, but had shown signs that he could now wield magic just like she could. This person, he told her, was none other than his young assistant, Kefka Palazzo, a man she remembered seeing on occasion, but she had never spoken to him, even if he had been working in the lab just about as long as she had been living here. All she remembered was that he was a rather short man with blonde hair in a ponytail and vibrant, blue eyes that she couldn't help but feel hid something behind them that he would rather keep secret, and she wondered if that was the very reason he didn't talk much, lest those very secrets managed to escape by accident.

After that, she would often peek out of Dr. Cid's office to see if she could catch another glimpse of the only other person that was like her, but no matter how much curiosity she held for him, the most he ever spared her was a quick glance, apprehension at yet another several hours strapped to an operating table no doubt the most pressing thing on his mind at the moment, and she could never bring herself to smile at him because she couldn't be certain he'd smile back. She had never seen him smile.

But, now that she knew who the newest cries belonged to, the most noise she had ever heard from him, she worried he wouldn't make it through the experiments, after all, from the way he would scream and thrash about as they injected him with all manner of strange liquids, making him, for those moments, so very unlike the man she was used to seeing. But, somehow he survived, even after the seizures and the week-long coma that had kept Dr. Cid up late into the night with worry. She only knew this because he let her stay up with him in his office to keep him company, and she knew he must be very worried indeed because he was normally quite strict about her keeping to her bedtime schedule.

It was not long after Terra's sixth birthday that she found that the scientists were through doing tests on her, and while she should have been relieved by this news, this only made her wonder just what would happen to her now that Dr. Cid said she didn't have to stay in the lab anymore. He promised to find someone good to take care of her, but she latched onto him, nonetheless, crying and begging him to let her stay because, even though she didn't like to hear the sounds of the tests going on in the operating room, at least he was here to comfort her when she was sad and afraid. And it didn't matter that he said they could visit each other because it wouldn't be enough.

A few days later, Dr. Cid came into his office with Kefka at his side. She hadn't ever expected to see Kefka again, not after he had stopped working at the lab some months earlier, but here he was, just as quiet as she remembered. Apparently, Kefka had agreed to take care of her, but it didn't seem to really be his idea when Dr. Cid did most of the talking and Kefka seemed distracted by what she could only assume were yet more of those secrets that now hid behind eyes that didn't look quite as bright as she remembered.

Dr. Cid explained to her that the two of them would be perfect for each other because of how similar they were, though it seemed she wasn't the only one he was trying to convince, and all the while, she remained with her back pressed up against one corner of the room, hoping her silence would be enough for him to change his mind about this whole matter. It wasn't that she disliked Kefka. He was quiet and shy and could do magic like her, but he was no Dr. Cid, and she wasn't entirely sure if he even wanted her.

Eventually Dr. Cid succeeded in coaxing her out of her corner, though she approached them with unsure steps, and Kefka's eyes landed on hers, as if this was the first time he was fully aware she had even been in the same room as him, and she noticed that his eyes did indeed look far too pale. They weren't that pale before. She would have remembered.

He forced half a grin, nearly extending a hand before having second thoughts and drawing it back, and she looked between them before throwing herself onto Dr. Cid. He held her close for a time, but had to eventually pry her loose when she wouldn't let go, but before he did, he promised they'd see each other again, but she didn't know how long from now that would be.

Terra said good bye as she followed Kefka out the door, her chocobo doll clutched in her arms as she tried her best to hold back tears, and it wasn't long before she found herself walking down the longest hallway she had ever seen, and she was reminded that today was her very first time to ever set foot outside the lab, and if today was a first in one thing, it may very well be the beginning of many other things, as well, though she had no way of knowing what that might mean for her.

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And so ends the first chapter. I thought it was rather interesting writing this version of Kefka. He's so different from what we see in the game, but Ultimania says he was "taciturn" before he lost his mind, so this is my interpretation of his original personality. (And I know Cid doesn't wear a lab coat in the game, but I have him wearing one in this anyway. Because I can. And because his game-garb is so unappealing.) And, of course, please review and tell me what you think so far.


	2. Chapter 2: New Home

I was recently informed by a reviewer that the details in the so-called FFVI Ultimania are fake and made up by a fellow fan not unlike you and me. Well, unfortunately, I have already based a good deal of this story off those details, and I don't know how easily it can be rewritten. So I'm going to be keeping this story largely the same, and I wanted to give credit to the fan, whoever you are, that came up with Kefka's backstory. I think it's great and, frankly, should be his official backstory, as an awesome character like Kefka certainly needs one.

Nevertheless, I'm rather embarrassed I was unknowingly using someone else's ideas. At least my story's based off of _good_ ideas.

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**Chapter 2: New Home**

To Terra, Kefka's quarters in the palace was the nicest place she had ever seen. It was only two rooms, but they were two _large_ rooms, with a fireplace and rugs covering wooden floors and curtains hanging down over tall windows (Terra was just thrilled there were windows at all, as the lab didn't have any, and thus far, she had only heard about the world outside and looked at pictures of it, but never before had she really seen it with her own, two eyes). Kefka apologized that all he had to be used as a bed for her right now was a small sofa, but when she pressed her hands against the cushions, it turned out to be far softer than her cot back at the lab, even if it was a little small, but it was fine at the height she was now. The other room was his bedroom, which he told her to never go in while he was away, and though she wasn't sure why, she nodded, her arms still wrapped around her chocobo doll, and it wasn't like she planned on causing any trouble when he was nice enough to take her in to begin with, especially when he didn't seem to be any more certain about the whole matter than she was.

The next thing that caught her eyes, after the windows, of course, was Kefka's collection of books. He had more of them than she could count, absolutely filling the many bookcases that lined the walls, and it seemed they already had something in common because she loved to read, as well. Most of the books Dr. Cid had were rather dry, but they were good practice for when he brought her stories of grand adventures and love and poetry. Terra could pick up any of these sorts of books and just read and read until she fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.

Starting that day, Terra found herself with much more peace than she ever had before. Kefka's home was about as quiet when he was there as when he wasn't (she thought it seemed a bit strange to leave her home alone, as she _was_ only six, after all, but she supposed there wasn't much he could do about it), and he simply nodded when she asked him if she could read his books, and so, whenever she was in the mood, which was most of the time, she'd sit in his armchair, the very place _he_ always sat when he was reading, and read books that were as heavy and had nearly as many hard words as Dr. Cid's, but which were also at least as interesting as, if not more so than, the stories Dr. Cid used to bring her.

And as she read, there were many times when she didn't know the words, and while Kefka was at his desk, she'd ask him what they meant and how to say them, and though she tried to interrupt his work as little as possible, he didn't really seem to mind her questions. Never did she ever think she'd be able to wrap her tongue around soliloquy, though, regardless of the number of times he had to repeat it to her. She was just impressed _he_ could say it.

No matter how busy he looked, though, she couldn't stop herself from asking him other kinds of questions every now and then, as well, because that was one of the only ways she could get him to talk to her. She asked him who this Emperor was that she heard so much about, and she asked him what he did now that he was in the military rather than studying in the lab with Dr. Cid. She also asked him if any of the things she read about in his books could ever really happen, and he said he thought they could, not that he ever planned on embarking on any kind of journey himself. Neither did she, as she just knew she would be far too scared to ever even attempt such a thing. She also asked him which of his books he liked most and how old he was and where he was from, but many of the questions she asked about him he didn't want to answer, and she didn't know if it was the questions themselves or if he was just tired of talking, so she didn't say anymore on the matter.

And though she very much enjoyed all the peace and quiet she got here, and it was very nice not having to hear the tests anymore, it did feel strangely lonely with so much silence, and it was easy to forget she wasn't really by herself when her new companion rarely spoke to her. But, a night came eventually where Kefka was reading in his armchair, studying the pages with such attention that she could only imagine what had him enthralled so, and as she watched him from her sofa, he glanced up to catch her in the act of staring at him. He blinked at her, and before his eyes could leave her, she managed to keep his attention rooted to her when she asked him if he might read to her. Dr. Cid used to read to her, when he had the time, and she found that having another person to read with always made it that much better, and how else could she get Kefka to say more than a few sentences to her? He blinked at her again, obviously putting some thought into the matter, and she wondered if she might have asked for too much until his mouth turned up in a half grin, the second one she had ever seen from him.

Kefka turned back to the front of his book, even though he had appeared to already be a good ways into it, and Terra curled up on the sofa with her chocobo doll hugged to her chest. She listened to him read late into the night, and though his voice was rather high-pitched for a man, it was a comforting sound, and she had to fight to keep her eyes open. And it no longer seemed so bad that she hadn't seen Dr. Cid for a good several months now, even if she still missed him dearly and wanted to visit him as soon as Kefka could spare the time to take her to him. In fact, she had never felt so comfortable before than she did now as she listened to Kefka's soft voice weave the most wonderful tales for her, while the room was kept warm by a fireplace he had lit with magic, its fire being the only light he had to read by, keeping the room dim, but in a pleasant sort of way.

And she couldn't help but look about for him when she woke up some time later without any knowledge until now that she had even fallen asleep, but he was nowhere to be found, and it was apparent that some time had passed by the way the fire had since burned itself down to a few glowing embers. Terra snuggled deeper beneath the sheets that had been pulled up to her shoulders, even if she didn't remember arranging them in such a manner herself, and she wondered if perhaps Kefka got used to reading aloud, maybe he might start talking to her more, and maybe then this could be the first time in her life that she could truly feel like any other little girl.

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I hope you guys are enjoying this story so far. Please review.


	3. Chapter 3: Brother

Sorry my chapters are always so short. And for the lack of interaction. I still think this is a decent chapter, nevertheless. Now I just have to see if _you_ agree.

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**Chapter 3: Brother**

Terra found out quite quickly that the outside world was not a very nice place, and she was starting to understand why Kefka never left home anymore than he had to, except for things like work or to retrieve hot cocoa for the two of them from the palace kitchens. It was not until a time when Kefka was too busy, always hunched over his desk with a quill pen she almost thought hadn't left his hand in days, too busy for their nightly reading even, that Terra decided she would muster up the courage to leave their little home and see what she could find about the palace. Kefka had warned her to be careful and to not wander outside and to absolutely, under no circumstances, talk to or go anywhere with people she didn't know, and she promised she would remember all these things.

After a good bit of wandering and very nearly getting lost a few times, she came upon a group of children playing in one of the palace courtyards. Terra had never seen other children before, as she was the only one they had ever done tests on in the lab, and she watched them from behind a pillar as they screamed and ran about. She didn't know what the children were doing, only that they must be having fun because of how much they were giggling, and going over what Kefka had said, she wondered if it would still be okay to talk to them because he had probably only meant that she shouldn't talk to adults.

But, when it came down to it, talking to the other children proved to be far too difficult, and Terra eventually returned home without so much as a word to alert them to her presence. It took her another week or so before she was brave enough to approach the other children one day with her chocobo doll hugged tight to her chest, and as they stopped and turned to her, all she could think to say was hello and that her name was Terra Branford, even if she had never figured out from whom her last name came from.

They asked a lot of questions, and they weren't very nice questions, but it became quite clear that they didn't want to play with her, and she wasn't sure if she had said something wrong or why it was bad that she had green hair, and showing them that she could use magic only made things worse. She returned home not long later with tears streaming down her face and the wing of her chocobo doll torn, and as soon as he saw her, Kefka knelt down and held her close when she ran to him, not unlike what Dr. Cid used to do, and she cried into his shoulder for a time before she could calm down enough to tell him what had happened. Her voice shook as she told him about what the children had said, and he didn't once speak until after she had finished. He then held her at arm's length and wiped her tears away and told her not to be ashamed because she was different or because she could use magic, as they were still the only two that could do such a thing, and that was the very thing that made them special.

He became silent again, however, when she asked him if he would be considered her father now, because all children had parents but her, but when he could finally speak again, he said no, and her tears nearly returned before he could explain to her that he would much rather be thought of as her brother, which he said was a far better thing than a parent was. Parents could leave, he said, but a brother would not. He promised to never leave her, and though she didn't entirely understand what he meant about parents, her face had no choice but to mimic his when he smiled at her, the third one she had ever seen on his face. The expression then left him when he took her chocobo doll in his hands and analyzed the tear with eyes half-closed in contemplation, and then he stood and asked if he could hold onto it for a little while, and she nodded, and he gave her an awkward pat on the head, as if uncertain if such a thing was something one did, and he returned to his work.

She sat down on her sofa the wrong way, with her chin resting on arms that were folded on the backrest, as she watched him work, the chocobo doll now sitting on his desk, but she was sure it wouldn't be forgotten, because she was beginning to learn that, even when he was too busy to pay much mind to her, she didn't think Kefka forgot about _her_, either, and if that was what it meant to have a brother, she thought she liked that even more than having a parent.

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Writing nice Kefka is weird…. But, it's necessary for the sake of the story. Anyway, please review.


	4. Chapter 4: First Tears

The beginning of the good. And the bad.

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**Chapter 4: First Tears**

Terra never again went to play with the other children. In fact, she loved it most when she was home with Kefka, and though it was hard when he was gone, it only made it that much better when he returned and she could wrap her arms around him, and she found that the most effective method of all to get him to smile was to smile herself. She had since lost track of the number of times she had seen him smile.

They spent all of his spare time together, mostly at home, but sometimes she could convince him to take her for walks in the palace or even outside, and she would hold his hand and ask a thousand questions about what she saw, and sometimes she'd even bring her chocobo doll along. It never looked the same after what had happened to it, but Kefka had tried to mend it as best he could, and the wing stayed on just fine now. And even though he was unable to find yellow thread that matched exactly, she liked her doll a lot more now than ever before.

Of course, being home was best of all, where it was just the two of them, and here he continued to read to her, or she to him, whenever the mood struck her, or he would show her his collection of music boxes, which she had been certain must be powered by Magitek, until he had corrected her, and which he let her wind up whenever she pleased. Once she promised to be careful, of course.

He also brought her many presents, as well, dolls and jewelry and ribbons and other pretty things, and he even gave her a music box of her own one day, one that was even more beautiful than his were, and she had pounced on him and hugged him tight as she thanked him a million times for such a lovely gift. And even though the silence used to make her rather lonesome, she had since grown content even with the times when they weren't talking (even if such times were far more frequent than she wanted, as no matter how many months, and eventually years, went by, Kefka still never spoke a whole lot), because it was just nice to have him around, and she thought that he must surely enjoy her company, as well.

Sometimes they would just sit in near silence, except for the crackling of the fireplace after one of them had lit it with the magic he had since begun encouraging her to practice, and they would drink hot cocoa with extra marshmallows or he'd fix up her hair for her with ribbons and bows, and sometimes he'd even work on sewing her new dresses, which he had gotten quite good at.

In fact, the very first birthday present he had ever given her, her very first birthday present at all, actually, as she had never had a birthday before and had never even known of the existence of such a thing until he had asked her what she wanted for it, was a rather lopsided dress he had made. He had never made an article of clothing before, and he couldn't try it on her to make sure it hung right without ruining the surprise (she had wondered why he needed her measurements), but she thought he did a wonderful job, and that birthday was one she would remember her whole life, not just because it was her first, but because it was also the first time she had ever eaten cake, though, that was one thing Kefka _didn't_ make himself. He said he was terrible at cooking, but she didn't see how that could be when he was so much smarter than her and seemed to be good at everything he did.

Terra had never been so happy as the years following Kefka's decision (or Dr. Cid's, as was more likely the case, but such a thing didn't really matter to her anymore, not when the result was the same) to take care of her, but there was always one thing that weighed on her heart, and it was something she didn't know if he had been doing all along and she just hadn't really noticed before or if it had started more recently, but she was starting to think that it was more likely the former.

Kefka talked to himself. She used to think that he might just have a habit of voicing his thoughts aloud, kind of like the way Dr. Cid's lips moved as he read, but the more time that passed, the more she wondered if there might be something wrong with him.

Because it got worse. Since the day he took her in, he often seemed distracted, and she wondered if he might just have many important things on his mind, as adults usually did. But, it never failed to make her heart beat a little faster when she started to see a vacant look in his eyes, like he had retreated somewhere very distant, and she would shake him until he took notice of her again, just in case there was a chance he might withdraw to a place so far away, he might never return.

And with the vacant looks came the talking. She could scarcely understand what he was saying, the way he mumbled to himself, just under his breath, but _what_ he was saying worried her less than _who_ he was saying it to, and there were times she couldn't take it anymore, and she'd climb into his armchair and snuggle next to him with her arms wrapped around his waist and her head resting on his chest, and he'd put an arm around her, and they'd sit in silence together. She wanted him to talk more, but not like that. She'd rather the silence than that.

And with the passing of the years, Kefka seemed more and more like he was in his own, little world, and while he still made her clothes and brought her presents, none of that mattered to her because what she wanted most of all was _him_, and that was one thing she got less and less of. She tried to ask him what was wrong, and at first, he denied that anything was, but he was fooling no one, and she thought he knew that, so he started instead to assure her that he was going to be fine, while at the same time begging her not to tell Dr. Cid, and though she had never disobeyed Kefka's wishes before, this was one time she really thought she should. But, she didn't. Not yet anyway. Because maybe he was right, and he would get better somehow. Maybe he was just sick. People never stayed sick forever.

It was the biggest shock of her life the day he slapped her.

She had never seen him like this before. She had seen him sad plenty of times in the past, either for his own reasons or because _she_ was upset about something, but never before had she seen Kefka cry. It was a quiet sobbing, but it was more than obvious by the way his face was buried in his hands and his shoulders shook, and she thought she heard snippets of what he was saying, and it sounded like he was pleading with someone, or something, to leave him alone, and though she was the only one here, he surely couldn't have meant those things towards her. And she got up and tried to wrap her arms around him to see if that would make him feel better. He had comforted her plenty of times in the past, but never had she really gotten a chance to do the same for him.

And that's when he hit her. She had gasped when it happened, her cheek beginning to sting as soon as the realization of what he had done clicked in her mind, and he stared at her, as dumbstruck as she, with eyes still red from tears, and her arm shook as she lifted a hand to her face.

He choked out an apology and rose from his chair to hold her close, telling her over and over again into her hair how sorry he was, and she forgave him at least as many times, but she wanted to cry, but not as much because of what had happened as the silent realization that perhaps it was too late for Kefka to get better. Even if she told Dr. Cid now, he might not be able to help. She should have done something earlier. It was her fault. They had been together for six years now, and in all that time, not once had Kefka ever laid anything but a gentle finger on her or spoken a harsh word. Not once had he ever raised his voice. And not once had he ever made her cry, but that night, she cried harder than she ever had in her life.

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And as we all know, it only gets worse from there. Please review.


	5. Chapter 5: Ash

Finally, some actual dialogue. It's long past due, I suppose.

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**Chapter 5: Ash**

Terra hadn't heard a sound out of Kefka all day. Years ago, she wouldn't have thought anything, but he hadn't spoken one word to her, or to himself, since yesterday, nor had he budged from his desk for the last many hours, and it wasn't because he was busy. She certainly hadn't seen any sign of such a thing, and she had been watching. She always watched him anymore. He never seemed to notice, though.

She slipped out of his armchair and inched closer to him, but even when she stopped beside his desk, she kept her distance. She remembered quite clearly what had happened the last time he was like this. It wasn't his fault, but that didn't make her forget.

She tucked her hands behind her back, remaining quiet longer still, with some glimmer of a thought that he might be the one to speak first, but he didn't. "Kefka," she said, and his head jerked up.

"Yes? Do you need something?"

"Are you all right?"

He didn't answer right away, but folded his arms before him on his desk and bowed his head with a kind of exhaustion that shouldn't have been present in a man his age. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I was just checking." She looked away. "You just seemed lonely, and I thought…maybe you could use some company."

He said nothing, and she padded over to the window to pull back one curtain. He always had a habit of keeping the curtains drawn even during the daytime. Usually it was up to her if they got any sunlight.

"You haven't read to me in a few days. I can always do it if you're too tired." She watched the people milling about on the street below, people whose lives she could only guess at, while she was certain that they, at the same time, hadn't even a notion of the life of the one in the window far above them. "It seems books are the only way I can ever hear about the outside world. It's all around me, and yet…I don't seem to know a thing about it."

"You're not missing anything."

She looked back. "But, you've already gotten to see so many more things than I have. Isn't it exciting visiting different places people live and…and mountains and forests and oceans?"

His chair creaked as he leaned back. "Once you've seen one town, you've seen them all. Same goes for everything else. No matter how many miles you travel, everywhere has the same, old nonsense."

"Oh." Her gaze dropped from him to land on the edge of his desk. "Well, I'd still like to maybe leave Vector at least once someday and visit somewhere I've never been before."

"Maybe you will."

She looked up at him again. "Will you take me with you one day? On one of your…campaigns?"

He shrugged. "Maybe,"

A second perusal out the window brought to her notice children playing in an alley far below, children with rough, simple clothes, obviously not from the palace. The ones she had tried to play with years ago were grown like her now. They likely didn't remember her at all.

"Kefka…"

"Hnn?"

"Why am…why are _we_ different?"

"We just are."

She turned around and rested her back against the window behind her. "Why was I born with the ability to use magic? You…you said once that there were no other people like that. In all your travels, you never found any people that could use it without having to be put through those tests."

"That's what I said."

"Why? Why can I, then?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"But, you _know_, don't you?"

"Yes, but if Cid never felt it necessary to tell you, then he must've had a reason. I don't know why _I'm_ different, either, and even if I did, I doubt there would be anything I could do about it."

She stared at him, but he continued to gaze straight ahead with tired, half-closed eyes, though if she had to guess, she wouldn't say it was an exhaustion arising from sleepless nights alone.

"I just want to know. I've never felt like a part of the world, and that may never change, but I still want to know _why_."

Kefka's eyes landed on hers, and she drew back without meaning to, at the glimpse of something in his gaze that she didn't want to see. "I'd like to know why to a lot of things, too, but I never will."

His eyes slipped from her again, and she pushed away from the wall and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "I don't want you to think I'm complaining, though. I _am_ glad it's just the two of us. I really am. It's…it's okay if the world doesn't seem to want us. We don't need them anyway."

"No," he said, and she wouldn't have heard him if he wasn't already so close, and he put his arms around her and held her tight. "We don't need the world at all, my dear. It could all burn to ash, and it wouldn't make any difference."

She pushed away from him. "You don't mean that."

But, he only smiled.

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Some interaction in a story that's been sorely lacking in it, and there will be more to come. Please review.


	6. Chapter 6: Forget

Sorry, this is a really short one.

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**Chapter 6: Forget**

It was now late evening, and Kefka hadn't once acknowledged that it was her birthday. Even though his condition, or whatever Terra could think to call it, had only gotten worse, she simply couldn't imagine him forgetting such an important thing as that. He had left that morning with no more than a nod in her direction as she watched him from a sofa that was starting to get a little cramped, but it was still early, and sometimes mornings didn't quite agree with him.

She got up and brushed her teeth and put on one of the newest dresses he had made for her, a most delicate one with lace and a big bow tied in the back that she remembered he had looked rather silly making, as it wasn't often one saw a man devoting so much serious attention to something so frilly, and she plopped down in his armchair and got to reading as she awaited his eventual return.

Nevertheless, while Kefka usually tried to return home early on her birthday, today was not one of those days, and she tried to tell herself that he had simply been forced to stay at work later than he surely planned on, but there was a niggling thought in the back of her head that made her doubt this was the case.

By the time he came through the door that evening, her anticipation of what awaited her had become almost unbearable, while her stomach had settled into a nearly constant grumbling at having skipped breakfast and lunch (in preparation for what he would bring back from the palace kitchens for her birthday dinner, as he had never before failed to do), but as she straightened in her seat and smiled up at him, she received nothing above a half-felt grin and a vacant greeting in response before he passed her by to sit at his desk.

It was now a couple hours after his return, and right now, he was doing little more than staring out the window as he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and his fist tucked under his chin, and though she had been watching him from his armchair for a good half hour now, not once did he look over. All day she had tried to tell herself that he must have some kind of surprise planned, and he just hadn't chosen to reveal it yet. He was quite good at being secretive, and in the past, he had surprised her with all manner of things that she never had any notion he had even been planning. But, with the setting of the sun nearly upon them, it was becoming impossible to make herself believe this, not matter how many times she repeated it in her head.

She pushed aside the book laid open in her lap and stood, even if approaching him only made it easier to catch the words he spoke under his breath. While it had become quite a regular occurrence for him to talk to himself, this was one thing she would never get used to.

"Kefka," she said, and she repeated his name louder when he failed to take notice of her, and he turned to her with a sudden jolt. She had almost forgotten how very pale his eyes were.

"Yes?" The word was soft, as if he was hardly aware it had even passed his lips.

"Today is my birthday."

He blinked at her. "Is that so?"

She nodded, and her hands rose to fidget with each other as he adjusted his stance to face her better.

"How old are you, then?"

Her mouth opened and closed several times, even if this should have been an easy question. "Thirteen. I'm thirteen now."

"Thirteen," he repeated, and he shook his head, giggling to himself. She had never heard him laugh like that before. "Of course. Happy birthday, my dear."

The corners of his lips dropped as his face returned to the same solemn expression as before, and he turned from her to resume staring out the window. "I've missed it, haven't I?"

She nodded, even if he was no longer looking at her, and she waited for more to be said, but none came.

"Kefka?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too, my dear…." he began, only to trail off, and she left him to climb back into his armchair, but she couldn't bring herself to return to her reading.

The rest of the day, Terra forgot, too, what day it was, as her mind was much too busy wondering just what other things he might forget and how much longer her last statement to him would receive a response.

* * *

When I was planning out my new version of this story, it was the idea of Kefka forgetting her birthday that got me all the more excited about writing something where the two of them used to have a good relationship that's eventually ruined as he grows more and more insane. It's also about this time that I start to feel rather guilty about what I'm going to be putting poor Terra through. Please review, my dear readers.


	7. Chapter 7: Sickness

I continue to subject poor Terra to all sorts of woe.

* * *

**Chapter 7: Sickness**

Terra had hardly left Kefka's bedside in a good two weeks now, and he showed no signs of getting any better. He had developed an intense fever that had come on quite without warning, along with a weakness in his body that had confined him to his room, and she had to help him into bed after he had collapsed to the floor, and ever since, Terra had done little else but dab at his forehead with a cold towel or spoon feed him plain broth, when he could keep it down, that is, while he stared off at nothing with glassy eyes and intermittently mumbled to himself and blamed whoever it was he thought resided in his head for his current affliction.

She would stay up with him late into the night, sitting on his bed and stroking his hair and watching his chest rise and fall as he slept just to make sure he was still alive, and she would often wake up hours later to find she had fallen asleep right in that very spot, and whenever his head was clear enough to be aware of her presence, he would promise her he'd get better soon, and she knew that when he said this, he was also telling her not to go to Dr. Cid, but this time, she thought she might have to disobey him because he only got worse the last time he promised her he'd be all right.

Nevertheless, she supposed it couldn't hurt to give him a little while longer to recover, and she continued to tend to him as best she knew how, doing the kinds of things he would do when she was sick and just generally keeping him company, which he seemed to appreciate when he was actually aware she was nearby, and whenever she thought he was listening, she'd read to him, even if it was hard to focus on the words when she didn't know how serious his illness was and when she worried that, if and when she _did_ go to Dr. Cid for help, what if that was the very moment Kefka needed her most? What if she really _was_ too late this time?

She had already let him down once before, and it had cost him dearly. Maybe Dr. Cid wouldn't have been able to help him anyway, or maybe he could have, but it was now far too late for her to know one way or the other. All she knew for certain was that she could have at least _tried_, and she didn't. She didn't even _try_ to help him, and she wondered what kind of person that might make her.

He would understand if she disobeyed him, though, wouldn't he? He was always good about that kind of thing. He hadn't even gotten angry with her the time she dropped a teacup when she had burned herself. His main concern had been her, not the shattered china cup or the irreversible stain that had adorned their rug ever since. And the time she had been reaching for something and had knocked down one of his favorite music boxes, no punishment came, then, either, even when she had become frozen to the spot as she waited for it. Instead, all he had done was stare at it in stunned silence, the racket it had made no doubt startling him about as much as the resulting damage, before coming over to pick up the pieces with about as much solemnity as if he had been burying a beloved pet. He forgave her once he could speak again, though that was one transgression whose guilt never really went away. He had loved that music box.

Her course of action was decided for her, however, when he had a seizure and wouldn't wake up again no matter how much she shook him. She had never run so fast before in her life, and she was just grateful that Kefka had taken her to visit Dr. Cid in the past, or else she might very well not have known how to find her way to the lab, and she didn't know what she'd do if that had been the case. She probably would've collapsed right there in the hallway and cried.

She was crying enough already when she did finally reach the lab, and Dr. Cid grabbed her by the arms as he tried to get out of her what was wrong. It was hard to get the words out through her sobbing, but she managed it eventually, and he came back with her at once, though she couldn't enter Kefka's bedroom until Dr. Cid had confirmed that he was still breathing. He was awake by now, as well, but only just, as his eyes might've been open, but she couldn't be certain if he could actually really see anything.

Dr. Cid carried him back to the lab, and it was quite fortunate Kefka was a rather small man and didn't weigh much, as Dr. Cid was getting on in years, and he told her as they went down the hallway that he'd do everything in his power to help, but when he told her not to worry, she couldn't tell if he was just saying that because that's what people said or if he really thought there was no need for such a thing. He looked anxious enough himself, so she could only assume he had only given her such reassurances out of obligation.

She didn't see much of Kefka over the next week, and whenever she _did_ see him, he was always asleep, or perhaps unconscious, with tubes in his arm that she didn't know the purpose of. While she knew Dr. Cid was not _that_ kind of a doctor, the kind that tended to those that were sick or injured, he said nothing of her coming to him, and it was quite possible that Kefka's current illness was not just some particularly severe case of the flu, but side effects stemming from something long ago.

It was the experiments that had done this to him, she was certain it was. They had caused not just his sickness, but the talking he did to himself and the vacant looks, as well. It was because of the experiments that he had hit her that time. He hadn't meant to do that. It wasn't his fault.

And as she waited for him to wake up again, she just hoped that when he did, he wouldn't talk to himself when Dr. Cid was around. She didn't think Dr. Cid knew that he did this, but it was likely too late for him to do anything about it anyway, and if he found out, he might just wonder why Terra had never bothered to tell him. Because it might not just be Dr. Cid's tests that had made Kefka sick. It might be _her_ fault, as well, because she had failed to bring it to Dr. Cid's attention years ago.

Kefka could die, and it would be all her fault.

Dr. Cid came into his office one day, where she had been spending much of her time, to tell her that Kefka was finally conscious again, and she followed him to the room where he was kept, a small space that was rather cold and lacking in windows, but the lab wasn't typically meant for such a thing. And though Kefka looked tired, his eyes weren't as glassy as they once were, and, thankfully, he wasn't talking to himself, either. She smiled when she saw him and went to sit beside him on the bed, and she helped him to sit up when he couldn't do it on his own. He remained largely silent as she spoke to him, however, and only gave short answers when she asked him about how he was feeling, and she couldn't help but fidget when his eyes, at last, landed on her for the first true time in weeks, even if she could think of no good reason why his gaze should elicit such a response from her.

He gave her a start when he grabbed her by the arms, not in the way that Dr. Cid had, though, but tight, tight enough that his nails dug into her skin, and she squeaked as he gave her a shake.

"Why did you have to tell him?" he said. "I specifically told you not to, and you went and did it anyway!"

She stammered and stuttered before she could think up any proper answer. He had never done this before. Not ever. And she had never seen him so angry before, either. "Y-you were sick, and…I'm sorry! I didn't know! You never said—"

It _was_ true. He _hadn't_ told her not to go to Dr. Cid. Not about this. Only about when he talked to himself, and she had obeyed him that time, even when it was probably not in his best interest. He really _hadn't_ gone out and said it this time, not in so many words, and it wasn't like she had really been given a choice in the matter, but he hit her anyway, harder than last time. It was the second time he had ever struck her, and her tears came immediately as she jerked out of his grip and backed away from him. Tears welled up in his eyes, as well, but from what, she could no longer be certain.

"I was the first success, you know. How can I be considered one now?"

He bowed his head and started to sob, and she turned and left with her cheek still hot where he had slapped her, and she couldn't tell Dr. Cid why she was crying when she passed him on her way out of the lab. She didn't know how long she had walked, nor did she know where she had ended up when she finally stopped sometime later, and she leaned against the wall in some hallway she didn't recognize with her arms hugged tight around herself. Her tears had since stopped flowing, and her face felt cold where they rested, and she wished she could cry more because she had so much more sorrow left in her, but it could very well be too much for her to ever rid herself of all of it.

She slid down the wall until she was sitting on the ground, blinking away the tears her eyelashes had been holding onto, and there she remained for some time, huddled up as she tried to sort out things in her head she would never fully understand, but most unsettling of all was the realization that she was starting to doubt she knew who Kefka really was anymore.

* * *

You know, this story's starting to rather depress me. In fact, once I started getting into these kinds of chapters, it gave me a rather unpleasant feeling in the pit of my stomach to write something so very different in tone to when the story began. But, perhaps that's good. Please review and tell me what you think.


	8. Chapter 8: Kindled Flames

This chapter contains a good number of details from the (fake) FFVI Ultimania, but fake or not, I love it so, and I had believed it was real for long enough, that it's not easy to suddenly forget. Again, I give credit to the person who thought all this up originally for the ideas that have inspired me.

* * *

**Chapter 8: Kindled Flames**

It had taken six soldiers to subdue him, Terra had heard, and that was not including several more that had to be rushed to the infirmary for third degree burns. Such news really should've been kept private, as people didn't need to know that the Empire's greatest general had had what some called a nervous breakdown, while others went so far as to label it a full-blown psychotic episode, but Terra eventually caught word of whatever it was that had happened when she left home that night after he had failed to return from a dinner celebrating a Celes Chere's promotion to admiral.

While she had come to expect the worst, she never would have expected something like this, and yet, over the last several years, Kefka had done many things she never would have believed he'd do, so perhaps she shouldn't have been so shocked when the patrolling soldiers whose conversations she had overheard had discussed amongst themselves how he been dragged away screaming and thrashing, his tirade interrupted by bursts of mad cackling and giggling, which didn't sound like him at all, but neither did any of the other details of how the whole ordeal had started when he had begun screaming graphic threats completely unprovoked at anyone unfortunate enough to be in his vicinity.

And though she had managed to force a part of herself to doubt their words, every bit of it was confirmed when she went to the lab, and Dr. Cid had to tell her in the choicest words possible that Kefka was currently sedated and strapped to a table in one of the rooms. One person had actually been bitten during their efforts to administer the sedative, while several others had been clawed in quite a nasty manner due to him neglecting recently to trim his nails, Dr. Cid among them.

She asked him a million questions, even if they all consisted of the same thing, but he refused to tell her much of anything, not what had possessed Kefka to do such a thing nor if he would be better once he woke again. He only insisted that she return home, and he'd have someone send for her tomorrow once they had better control over the situation.

She later came to regret not taking his advice when horrible, high-pitched laughter met her ears after several hours had passed, and Dr. Cid had banged his knee on his desk rushing out of his office to deal with Kefka's newest fit. She supposed strapping him down even when he was unconscious had been a good idea, after all, though that didn't prevent several injuries to people trying to tighten his restraints, not to mention a great number of death threats that had forced her to close the door to Dr. Cid's office, even if that didn't muffle his screaming nearly as much as she would have hoped.

Dr. Cid returned some time later with his lab coat singed and his chest heaving. The racket had since died down, but only because Kefka had at last worn himself out, this time without the need for more sedatives. It was quite possible his rest while he was unconscious might've been partly to blame for this whole event lasting as long as it had.

By now, it was early morning, and Terra decided against pressing Dr. Cid for more details after seeing how exhausted he looked, and she returned home, but she didn't think she slept, or if she did, she didn't notice. And yet, at the same time, she wasn't entirely sure if perhaps she _was_, in fact, sleeping, and everything bad that had happened, maybe even as far back as the first time he had hit her, was all just a very long, very terrible nightmare. But, when it was morning, and she was heading back down to the lab, it was quite clear that she was very much awake, just as she had been throughout everything that had happened, good and bad. Terra no longer believed you needed to be asleep to have nightmares.

Dr. Cid wouldn't permit her to see him that day or the next, no matter how much she begged to visit him just once, if only for a minute, and all he was willing to tell her was that Kefka was no longer tied down and was now confined to a cell. She knew full well how cold and uncomfortable those cells were.

It felt like an endless wait, and she wandered the hallways of the palace because it was impossible to go home without being reminded of good memories of years past, which had since become strangely painful to bear. What if those were all she'd ever get? What if the future wouldn't bring any more good things? While Dr. Cid had told her very little about Kefka's current state, his silence only served to spur her mind into all kinds of unpleasant thoughts.

Kefka might never get better. For years, he had only gotten worse. He might have to be locked up and never released again. He had hurt people, and she no longer knew him well enough to say with any certainty if he had done it on purpose or not. Could someone go to prison for a nervous breakdown? If there was something very wrong with someone, whether they harmed people on purpose or not, would they still be punished?

Over a week passed, and Terra was finally allowed a visit, but not before Dr. Cid sat her down to explain the things he couldn't tell her before. He told her that Kefka had lost much of his memory. He told her that Kefka was a changed man. And he would never be the same again. He hadn't been so blunt about it, but that's what he meant.

And though she suspected it for years, she asked in a way that was far less tactful than his own words had been, if the experiments were to blame. And they were. She knew Dr. Cid would've never put Kefka through such misery if he had known, and she understood why he had so much trouble looking her in the eyes right now. Nevertheless, she wanted to scream. Maybe not necessarily at him, but she wanted to, and it took all her willpower to hold it back, to tell him it was his fault this was happening, that everything bad Kefka had done was, in fact, Dr. Cid's fault, that Kefka was not a bad person because his actions in recent years were outside his control. And maybe that was true; she really didn't know anymore.

She knew he wasn't a bad person, though. No matter what he did, he would never be a bad person.

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the middle of his cell when she saw him, and he grinned up at her as she entered through the door that was closed and locked behind her much too quickly. They were afraid of him, and she wasn't sure if she should be, as well. Because his smile did nothing to diminish the wild glint in his pale eyes. She knew his eyes weren't always pale. They were bright once, before the tests had been performed on him. He might've been sick far longer than she realized.

"Kefka…do you…remember me?" she said, though she remained by the door. It wasn't that she thought she needed to. It wasn't that.

"Of course, I remember you." His words came out in a low hiss, as if he was only half-aware he was saying them. "Why wouldn't I?"

She forced her lips into a grin. That was a promising start, at least. "I-I was just checking." When he failed to budge from his position on the floor, she knelt down. "How do you feel?"

He gave an exaggerated shrug. "My neck's killing me from sleeping on that blasted cot. The least the old geezer could do is get me a decent pillow. If he insists on keeping me here another night, then _you'll_ just have to bring me one."

She frowned. "O-old geezer? You mean…Dr. Cid?"

"Who else?" He squirmed about, making it clear just how uncomfortable he was, until he settled for sitting on his feet. "You'll do it, won't you?"

"Do what?"

"Bring me a pillow. A nice, puffy one."

"Yes, of course…. Maybe it won't be too much longer. Maybe you can come home soon."

"I should hope so. I have no intention of becoming one of his lab rats again. Once was plenty."

He wriggled about again until he was in the same position as before, all the while grumbling to himself about how hard the floor was.

"Has it been lonely in here? I-I would've visited sooner, but…I wasn't able. I mean, Dr. Cid…" She paused as she watched him dust off his clothes, even when there was no need for it. "Do you…remember what happened? A week ago. Do you—"

He glanced up at her. "Stop assuming I've forgotten everything."

"Dr. Cid said—"

"I know what _Doctor_ Cid said, and he knows a lot less than you think, so stop hanging on to every word he says." By now, his smile was gone, and her heart pounded to see his face take on an expression a touch closer to matching his eyes.

"Why did you do what you did?"

He changed positions yet again, this time propping himself up with one hand on the floor. "The question is," his voice was nearly a whisper as he leaned in closer to her, "why didn't I do it sooner?"

"But, people got hurt. I know you didn't mean—"

His eyebrows rose. "Who said I didn't?"

"I…I assumed…"

"Never assume anything."

"But why…"

"Because I could. Because they were there. Because…" His smile returned, and he shook his head. "You wouldn't understand. If you did, you wouldn't have to ask."

"Please don't do it again."

His eyes landed on hers, and she had to fight the urge to look away.

"Please don't."

He continued to stare at her before erupting into a fit of giggling, only for it to end just like that. "Always such a good girl, aren't we, my dear?"

"I don't know."

He giggled as he scootched closer to her and extended an arm. "Come here."

She did, and none of the apprehension she had felt earlier stopped her from wrapping her arms tight around him and pressing her face to his chest. And she thought she might be crying. "You still love me, right?" She shouldn't really have to ask something like that, but she could never be sure anymore.

He stroked a hand down her hair. "Of course, I do." He then curled his fingers around her arms and pried her loose, and he brushed the back of one thumb against her cheek as the tears began to run down it. "I'll always love my favorite doll."

* * *

"I believe it would be best if you came to live with me. At least for a little while," Dr. Cid had said, and it took her some time to piece together the meanings of his words when her mind was already reeling from what had come before. Kefka was going to be put under house arrest so he couldn't endanger anymore people, and though he certainly had a point when he reminded her how much better such an option was than the alternative, that didn't mean she had to like it.

"As I'm sure you already know," he continued, "I'm not home very often, but I'm sure you'll be comfortable there. Terra?"

"No."

"Pardon?"

She lifted her eyes off her lap for the first time since their conversation began. "No. I'm…I'm going to stay with him."

"Terra, I don't think you understand. He's…how should I put this…?"

"He's changed." She knew that very well. She knew it better than Dr. Cid did, perhaps. "I want to stay with him. He'll…he'll be all by himself otherwise."

"He'll still be let out for work."

"But, he lost his job." He worked so hard to become general. He once told her that the day Dr. Cid had suggested he take her in and the day he was promoted to general of the entire Imperial army were the only two times in his life that he had ever gotten what he wanted. That was one of the rare times this past year that she actually recognized him.

"The Emperor will find something—"

"I just-I just want to stay with him. It should be my decision. I'm almost sixteen, and…"

Dr. Cid tried to look her in the eyes, but her gaze returned to her lap, and she fidgeted with her thumbs.

"If that's what you really want."

"It is."

"Then…in that case, I won't stop you. Just know that I'm here for you if you need me."

"I know." Her voice broke, but she managed to hold back all but a few tears from slipping down her cheeks.

Kefka's return home was delayed by another few days when he was finally told the news of his fate, and he screamed at everyone, with Dr. Cid being the main target, how much he hated them, with a great deal more hate's thrown in than necessary, and he had filled his cell with smoke when he burned the pillow she had brought him to ash and had tried to do the same to the mattress of the cot he seemed to hate nearly as much as he hated Dr. Cid. The mattress had caught on fire, all right, but they managed to put it out once he was pinned down and had stopped flailing and kicking so much. It was a testament to how inhospitable that cot truly was, seeing as it had done a commendable job of surviving the inferno. They didn't let her bring him any more pillows after that.

He was relatively calm when he was escorted home. She had walked by his side the whole way; she would have anyway, even if Dr. Cid hadn't suggested the idea with the hope that he would be a bit more inclined to behave himself and do as little harm to the soldiers accompanying them as possible, but she didn't know if she had any effect on him or if Dr. Cid had secretly drugged him without telling her.

And despite his insistence that his memory was quite intact, once they arrived home, he didn't seem to know what to do with himself, and he spent the rest of the day draped in his armchair with one leg over the armrest, looking quite lost as he untied and retied his ponytail over and over again, and as she watched him from his desk, it felt like she was watching a stranger.

* * *

Now we're getting to the Kefka we all know and love (not entirely sure why we like him, but still…). Whether I'm writing humor or something serious, insane Kefka can be rather fun to write, even if he's horrible. And as you likely know, that whole house arrest thing is an Ultimania detail, and even if it's not canon, it certainly makes sense, as Kefka really should be locked up, one way or another. Please review.


	9. Chapter 9: No Better Than a Doll

This chapter's a bit odd. But, I think they all get kind of odd from here on out….

* * *

**Chapter 9: No Better Than a Doll**

If Terra had been asked, years ago, what she thought her life would be like now, her wildest guess wouldn't have come anywhere close to the reality.

For the longest time, she was aware that Kefka was slipping away, like water between her fingertips, with no hope of ever getting back what was lost, but at least she could pretend for a while that things were still not so very different from what they once were whenever he wasn't talking to himself or staring vacantly out a window. She couldn't pretend anymore, however, when she came home one day to find his face covered in red and white makeup and his features distorted by a painted-on smile. She hadn't asked why he had wanted her to bring back makeup during one of her outings because she didn't want to know. And it was due to the shock at his changed face that she failed at first to take notice of what he had in his hand.

"My doll," she said, but she remained by the door as she stared across the room at where he lay in his armchair, currently putting a great deal of focus into one of the dolls he had gotten for her when she was young. She may've been too old for such things now, but it was _her_ doll, that the Kefka from long ago had gotten for her. "What are you…"

He flipped the doll around to face her. "What do you think?"

It was now painted in a manner quite similar to him, with a white face and red makeup around the eyes and mouth, its body now adorned with a dress comprised of a mishmash of patterns and frills and sashes, and she gasped at what he had done to it, at the same time asking herself exactly where he had gotten fabric she had never brought him, but which looked so familiar.

"What…what have you done to my doll?"

He arched his eyebrows at her, the lines painted on his forehead rising also. "_Your_ doll?"

"What have you done to it?" she said again, but he continued to stare at her.

"I don't recall these being _your_ dolls. They were in _my_ living room, after all."

"But, you _gave_ them to me."

"Who _paid_ for them?"

"You did, but—"

Kefka grinned at her, the expression turned inhuman when his smile now extended beyond his lips, and he giggled the high-pitched giggle that never failed to send chills down her spine. "Then, it appears they _are_ mine, after all." He stroked the doll's hair. "If these dolls _were_ yours, you should have taken better care of them. This one looks so much better now," he wiggled it at her, "wouldn't you agree? It's not nearly as plain anymore." He frowned, his eyebrows knitting together in dire seriousness. "Speaking of plain, you have to get me some better fabric. What we have here is absolutely _boring_!"

Terra was given a start when he yelled out that last word, and he wiggled his feet as he returned to giggling to himself. She frowned as she recalled exactly where the red and gold diamond print in the doll's skirt had come from.

Her eyes dropped to a pile of material on the floor beside him. "Kefka, did you do something to my dresses?"

He stopped giggling. "It's possible…"

His gaze followed her as she drew closer, and she knelt nearby to pick up what was left of one of her dresses to better study the holes cut out of it. By the time she looked up again, he had already returned to petting the doll's hair.

"Kefka…"

He looked down at her. "What?"

"You…you made this dress for me. For my eleventh birthday." It didn't matter that it didn't quite fit her anymore. She kept everything he gave her.

"How nice of me."

"No, it's…you've-you've ruined it." Her head dropped as she clutched the tattered dress to her chest, and the tears that had been budding in her eyes began to roll down her cheeks, but it wasn't long before he grabbed her chin and forced her face up again.

"Oh, poor dear," Kefka said. "I can always make you new ones. _Better_ ones. Wouldn't you like that, pretty thing?"

She wouldn't. She wanted her _old_ dresses, even the ones that didn't fit anymore. She wanted a lot of things she didn't have anymore.

Terra tried to still her quivering lip and gave a slow nod.

He smiled, staring down at her with pale eyes half-covered with red, painted eyelids. "That's a good girl."

* * *

When Terra was little, it felt like she was far closer to an object than a little girl. No matter how hard Dr. Cid tried to comfort her after injecting her with all manner of unpleasant things, it didn't make her forget that these things had been done to her against her will, and she thought _people_ were supposed to be treated better than that. _People_ weren't supposed to be used, like they were no different from a piece of furniture or a pair of socks. No matter how good Dr. Cid was to her _between_ the experiments, it didn't erase what happened during them.

But, when she went to live with Kefka, even if he didn't talk much at first, she thought she was finally starting to know what it felt like to be a human being rather than a test subject. That didn't last, though. Nothing ever did.

Kefka had since painted every one of Terra's dolls and dressed them up in outfits that somehow weren't even half as absurd as what he now adorned himself with. He wore so much clothes, it was hard to find him in all of it, let alone find two patterns that somewhat complemented the other, with his many scarves and puffy sleeves and his red and yellow cape and the large feathers in his hair, including an enormous white and blue-tipped feather he had returned with one day when he was let out for his duties. It had come from a rare albino chocobo, of which only several remained roaming about the snowy mountains of Narshe, and he had stuck it in his hair and showcased to her just how "beautiful" it made him look. The feather had cost a couple hundred gil, he had said, and she couldn't imagine spending that much on a feather, but she supposed it was his money to waste. He had plenty of it, even if, at this rate, she wasn't sure how long it would last.

His money, at least, far outlasted his attention span, and once he had no more dolls to decorate, and he was at last satisfied with the new clothes he had made for himself, he woke her up early one morning when he decided to wind up his music boxes and play them all at once, causing their tunes to mingle together and create a racket completely unrecognizable as music. This didn't keep him entertained for long, however, and to her great relief, he had settled next for lying in his armchair as he painted his long, claw-like nails.

But, even once this task was done, he remained silent for much of the day, silent for him, at least, and when it seemed safe for her to do so, she settled on the far end of her sofa, the closest she dared get to him, and curled her legs up beneath herself as she got to reading the book balanced on her lap. Even with the near silence, however, keeping her focus wasn't easy when her eyes kept darting over to him whenever he said something, but thus far, none of his words were directed at her. He got so cranky when she ignored him, but how was she supposed to know who he was talking to anymore?

She was startled from her reading when he snapped his fingers at her.

"Get your head out of that book already and look at me when I talk to you."

"I'm sorry, what…what were you saying?" Terra said, only to wonder if that was, perhaps, the wrong response. She never knew what would throw him into a fit, and somehow, that just might be it. But, staying silent didn't seem to spare her his aggravation, either.

"Come over here." He extricated himself from the awkward position he had somehow maintained for the better part of the day with a grace one wouldn't expect from someone in such attire to sit instead on the armrest, with his mismatched boots on the seat.

She set her book aside and rose to her feet, and he patted the space beside his boots with one hand.

"Sit," he said.

She obeyed, even if his command forced her to put her back to him, something she had been trying her best to avoid. On the other hand, disobeying him wasn't really an option, either.

Terra jumped at his touch as he began to comb through her hair with his fingernails, and she winced whenever he tugged on her hair too hard or his sharp nails dug into her scalp. He began to hum to himself as he worked next on pulling her hair into a tight ponytail, the only sound to break the silence in that otherwise still room, and a strange feeling settled into the pit of her stomach as she looked at how empty the place seemed, even if he was right there behind her. She wanted to say something, to find some way of pulling out of him the man she once knew, but she wasn't sure whether or not he was even still in there anymore. He might be. He might still be. The old Kefka used to fix up her hair, as well. This really was no different, was it?

"Makeup," he said, and she retrieved for him the desired items, but when she attempted to return to her sofa, he grabbed her by the wrist and tugged on her so that she fell back into his armchair.

"I'm not finished with you yet. Hold still." He pulled on her until she was facing him, and he held her head steady with one hand as he started applying the makeup with the other.

The makeup felt strange and unnatural on her skin, and he tightened his hold on her whenever she twitched, but it was hard to keep still when he was looming over her like this and when she could feel his breath on her forehead whenever he was especially attentive. And she didn't know why he should make her feel so uneasy. In the past, he had often held her tight when she was crying or knelt at her bedside when she was sick, and all those times he had been very close. But right now, all she wanted was for him to let her run off and wipe the makeup away, and perhaps she shouldn't feel this way. Maybe she was _wrong_ to feel this way. He was only trying to make her look nice, just as he had always done. He just had a different opinion of what that was now and a different way of going about it.

It took him a good hour to apply the makeup, and he was doing quite a meticulous job of it, based on the expression on his face, and he grumbled at her whenever she blinked as he worked on painting designs around her eyes. Finally, he sat up straight and surveyed her from afar before plucking the red feather from his hair to stick in her ponytail, and he wiggled the fingers of one hand in triumph. He then slipped off the armrest and wrapped an arm around her, forcing her to her feet to lead her to the tall mirror he had recently begun dressing up in front of, and her heart jumped at the sight of her pallid face and the red spots and curves and loops drawn about her eyes.

She looked like him. She didn't want to look like him. She used to wish that she did, that she had his blonde hair instead of her green and that people would think he was her father. Even if he didn't want to be considered such a thing, she secretly wished people would think that, but she certainly didn't want to look like _this_ version of him, because this _wasn't_ him. She didn't know who _this_ person was.

Kefka squeezed her shoulders. "You're the most beautiful one yet, my doll," he said in her ear, and she shivered, and as she looked into the mirror, she could hardly recognize either of them, and she wondered, when everyone always just did whatever they pleased with her, maybe she was no better than a doll, after all.

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Yeah, as I said earlier, kind of an odd chapter. Perhaps a little creepy, too... Anyway, please review, dear readers. Or Kefka will be displeased. And you don't want that.


	10. Chapter 10: Nightmares

I originally wrote this chapter for the earlier version of my story, but I thought it would still work in this version, as well, so I just made some changes, and here you go. It's rather short, but hey, as long as you guys enjoy reading it. And I sure hope you do.

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**Chapter 10: Nightmares**

Terra was woken up sometime around midnight by the sound of yelling in the other room. The two of them had always gotten plenty of nightmares, and that was one of the few similarities they still had in common. She once believed, back when she was still little, that adults didn't get nightmares, until she found that Kefka got them about as often as she did, though he would never tell her what his were about, and she never pushed him. It really was just nice, not that she _wanted_ him to get bad dreams, to have someone she could share her nightmares with that would truly understand.

It came as no surprise to her, however, that his nightmares had been getting worse and worse these past few years, and lately, she didn't know if he ever went more than a night or two without crying out in his sleep. And some nights, when he was particularly bad, she couldn't stop herself from sneaking into his room even when she wasn't supposed to just to make sure he was all right.

Of course, nothing was ever wrong, but it was hard to ignore him when he was making such a racket, and so, just as she had countless nights prior, she got out of bed, her nightgown doing nothing to protect her legs from the night's biting chill, but as she headed for the door to his room, she paused as she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

She had yet to wash off her makeup from that day, and it still clung to her face, now smudged on one side where she had been sleeping on it, which only served to make her appearance even more inhuman than before. Normally, he allowed her to take off her makeup once nighttime arrived, but he had gotten so angry at her today for sneezing and making him draw a line across her forehead, she hadn't dared wash it off even after he had left for bed. He got aggravated enough when she did this _with_ his permission, and after she had forced him to reapply her makeup, she thought she shouldn't push her luck and take off all his hard work with him still around. She was just grateful he didn't hit her. She really thought he was going to, he had been so angry.

She took a short detour to dip a towel in the washbasin, and she wiped away what was left of her makeup before tiptoeing to Kefka's room, and even though it seemed his nightmare had at last come to an end, she crept inside, nevertheless, because, as strange as it would surely sound if anyone were to ever find out, sometimes she couldn't resist watching him as he slept. Despite finding him, more often than not, tangled up in his red, silk sheets, and despite all the groaning and yelling and thrashing he did when he was ensnared in one of his nightmares, he really was much less frightening when he was asleep. In fact, this was the only time he ever seemed human anymore because the makeup would eventually rub off and because it was okay to talk to yourself in your sleep. And at least his clothing wasn't nearly as wild as what he wore during the daytime, even with the poofy sleeves of his nightshirt and his mismatched socks.

When she arrived at his bedside, she found him sleeping on his stomach with his face buried in his pillow, and it was a wonder really that he didn't smother himself, and she flinched when he moved, just in case he was getting ready to wake up, though he never had yet. Kefka seemed to be a rather deep sleeper most of the time, except when children made noise too early in the morning, and he'd scream out the window at them to be quiet, but not in so many words. This didn't seem to be the case tonight, however, when he groaned and stretched one arm, and before she could escape, one eye popped open and locked onto her.

"What are you doing in here?" Kefka asked, with his words mumbled and flowing into one another.

"You…you were screaming in your sleep," she said, and she began to fidget under his gaze.

He squirmed about to get into a more comfortable position, going still again once he was on his side, and she found his makeup to be nearly gone, with just a red streak left under one eye. "Was I?"

She nodded.

He chuckled to himself as a smile spread across his face, an expression that was far less unsettling when his lips weren't red. "If you saw what went on inside my head, you'd scream, too." He giggled once more before the corners of his lips fell into a frown. "Go away," he said, before rolling onto his other side and putting his back to her.

Terra did as she was told, but she was unable to get back to sleep that night when her mind was too busy with questions of what exactly _did_ go on inside his head, and she wondered, if it was enough to torment him with nightmares so, perhaps it was no wonder he had become the way he had.

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Aren't you impressed with my creative chapter titles? And is my story getting depressing? Actually, it's been depressing for some time now, hasn't it? I think it's inevitable for such a topic, though, isn't it? Ahem, anyway, as always, please review.


	11. Chapter 11: Cocoa

Finally, a chapter with an actual conversation again.

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**Chapter 11: Cocoa**

Today was Kefka's 33rd birthday. Terra just wished that _he_ knew that. She had yet to tell him, but she had gone down to the palace kitchens for some hot cocoa for the two of them, something he always enjoyed, no matter what the occasion, and which she hoped would make him a bit easier to get along with, considering his mood had turned quite sour as of late, even more so than usual, ever since the arrival of a rather bitter cold snap several days ago. She didn't know if he simply hadn't minded the cold so much before or if he was just far more vocal about it now.

When she arrived home, she found him sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, huddled up with his cape and other many layers of clothing wrapped about him. She really had no idea how he even _could_ be cold under all that clothes (or why he didn't take off some of it when summer arrived and his complaints turned to how hot he always was), but she could still see him shivering even from here.

"I hate hate hate hate hate hate _hate_ the cold," he told her and wrapped his arms even tighter around himself. "When is it ever going to end?"

"Winter just started," Terra said. "I brought—"

"Of course, it just started. If this was happening to anyone else, winter would be over by now." Under his breath, he added, "Shut up. You don't like it anymore than _I_ do."

"I brought hot cocoa."

He twisted around to look back over his shoulder at her. "Bring it over, then."

He stretched out an arm as she approached, and he snatched his mug away before she even had a chance to offer it to him and immediately began sipping at his hot cocoa as she sat nearby him on the rug. She had no idea how he could do that without burning himself and merely blew the steam from hers, only to have it return seconds later. With little else to do until her drink cooled, she settled for staring down into her mug, the marshmallows already tiny things, and she thought they would surely be gone before long. Maybe that's why he drank his coca so fast, but that still didn't explain _how_.

"Do you know who I got stuck talking to today?"

It could be one of two people. He seemed to hate talking to everyone, but there were really two people, not including the Emperor, that he had to interact with more than anyone else. Besides herself, that is. She could only hope he didn't hate talking to her, but whenever he didn't want to, he just didn't.

"Dr. Cid?" He was actually the least likely of the two, but she had learned not to say the other man's name any more than strictly necessary. And it was highly unlikely it was Dr. Cid when _she_ had spoken to him that day while Kefka was gone. He had come all the way here to check on how Kefka had been faring, but if that was his only reason for visiting, then he should've just spoken to Kefka about it. And he had shown far more concern about the bruise on her forehead than seemed normal. She had just banged it on the bottom of the table the other day when Kefka's sewing needle rolled under there.

"No. _Leo_. I got stuck talking to _Leo_ again. This was the fifth time in two weeks I've been forced to tolerate that goody-goody. Do you know what he said _today_?"

"No."

"He thought we should actually waste time and effort establishing peaceful relations with Figaro. But, there's nothing worthwhile even _there_. It would be much faster, and much more fun, if we just burned it."

"There's nothing wrong with being a…a goody-goody. I try to be good, too," Terra said.

"That's because you _are_ good, my doll." Kefka patted her on the head. "But, Leo's not. Not really. He might _act_ like a goody-two-shoes, but he's the one who stole my job. Remember that. He waits until someone's down…and then he _kicks_ them. Do you understand, my pretty thing?"

"He didn't do it on purpose, though."

His eyes narrowed, and she looked away. "Don't tell me you're siding with him. Who's the one that takes care of you?"

"That's not what I meant."

They grew silent, and she returned to staring at her hot cocoa. She hadn't so much as tasted it yet, but the way her stomach churned in a most unpleasant manner, she didn't think she really should be having anything sweet right now anyway. It was just that, they always used to drink hot cocoa _together_.

She glanced over at him again. "Kefka…today is your birthday, you know."

He stared at the floor. "It's _mine_ this time?"

She nodded. "Do you really not remember?"

"Does it really look like I'm faking it?"

"You're 33 now—"

"I don't care."

Her attention turned next to the fireplace. His fire spells always seemed to burn with a much greater intensity than anyone else's, and a curtain of perspiration was already forming on her brow. She heard before that emotion could impact one's magic, for better or for worse.

"How much…have you forgotten, do you think?" Terra asked, and when she looked over, she found him gazing into the fire, as well, the heightened shadows of the flames giving his artificially pallid face a most eerie appearance, while his painted smile did strangely little for his expression.

"Now _that_ would be an impossible thing to answer. If I knew that, then those things wouldn't really count as being forgotten, now would they?"

"I guess not. But…sometimes, there are things we _want_ to forget. Maybe you've forgotten them, at least."

"No." It was just a whisper, a sound that was almost lost in the crackling of the fire. "No, those are the things I still remember. I've forgotten everything else, but those memories are as clear as they've always been."

She watched him as he put his mug down on the floor and rubbed his face with both hands, and she moved closer until she was sitting right next to him, before holding her own cup out.

"I haven't touched it, if you want it." The marshmallows had already dissolved, but there was nothing she could do about that.

He pulled his hands down his face, where they paused on his cheeks, and he considered the mug before taking it, and she rested her head against his shoulder.

"I can help you remember all the good things, if you want," Terra said.

"Not right now."

She closed her eyes. She thought she could easily fall asleep right now, with the heat and the quiet. But, then he'd be alone, on his birthday of all days.

"Do you want me to read to you?"

"Why?"

"Because stories are always better like that."

"Do what you want."

She got up to peruse the bookshelves in the flickering twilight, and she found the very book she had in mind, one of her favorites, the very first book he had ever read to her, in fact, and she returned to snuggle up next to him again. He used to put his arm around her at times like this. This was close, at least. This was just as good, really.

She didn't know how much her reading cheered him up, even if it did wonders for her spirits. She actually couldn't really tell if he was even listening to begin with, though he did stay silent for the rest of the evening, and when it got quite late, she hugged him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, which received none of the usual struggling he was normally so determined to give whenever she tried anything of this sort, but maybe he was just too busy staring into the fire to notice, the very thing he had been doing throughout the entirety of her reading.

She left him when it seemed she would receive no other response from him tonight, and though she curled up on her cramped sofa, she didn't go to sleep quite yet, but instead stayed up watching him late into the night, long after he had fallen asleep in front of the fireplace, and she couldn't help but listen to him mumble to himself. And she didn't like what he was saying. Not at all. And his words made her dream of fire that night.

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I ended up liking this chapter a bit more than some of the previous ones, and I wrote it because I thought I needed some more actual interaction between the two of them. I really should've had more of that in this story. It was usually the most fun to write. Please review.


	12. Chapter 12: A Bad Person

I had to rewrite the first half of this chapter, and I think it's much better now.

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**Chapter 12: A Bad Person**

Looking Kefka in the eye wasn't as easy as it used to be. Everywhere Terra went, it seemed, she'd hear awful rumors about the things people said he had done, things that made her sick to think about, and it made her really wonder about this Empire she was a part of when someone could do these things, as part of their job, no less, and it was okay somehow. She knew very well what the military was, but such things should never be okay.

It was fortunate, then, that she already had practice ignoring things she didn't want to think about, at least for a time, and it helped that Kefka had begun reading to her again. Even though he had acquired quite the taste for tragic stories where everyone died in the end, and despite not always reading the chapters in order, she couldn't help but laugh at how animated he had become and the way he would use different voices and dramatic hand gestures, and she could tell herself at times like this that someone who could make her laugh so was surely not capable of the kinds of things the rumors contained.

In fact, he had picked up other old habits, as well, such as bringing her presents from different places he had been, and she could only hope that perhaps more of his old ways might return one day. These gifts also served as a reminder, however, of how little he knew her anymore, but he couldn't really be blamed if he simply didn't remember, and she could still believe, nevertheless, that he must still care for her when he thought about her at all, even as she accumulated feathers and jewels and fabric she didn't actually want or need.

And then one day, he brought her something that reminded her so much of the old Kefka, even if she was too old for such things. He returned home one afternoon with a lovely doll, the prettiest she had ever seen, a cloth one in a frilly dress of bows and lace and with its golden hair in curls and decorated with ribbons, and she thanked him and hugged him not even as many times as she wanted to for such a lovely gift. It was the only doll she had left, now that the rest belonged to him.

Her face fell, however, as soon as he told her _how_ he had gotten it, of how he had found it lying in the street of a town she had forgotten the name of, because the only thing that really registered was the fact that everyone there had been wiped out because they had refused to swear their loyalty to the Empire. It gave him no shortage of pleasure to describe to her what had happened and what role he had played in all of it, and she felt sick to think that the doll she held in her arms had so recently belonged to a little girl much like she had once been, but who was no longer around to enjoy it.

That night, once Kefka had gone to bed, she shoved the doll to the back of the shelf that housed her music box and her own, personal collection of books, and she washed her hands, in case the simple act of touching it had stained them with the same crimes that had been committed in order to bring it here to her, and she broke down into tears not long after as she tried to figure out some way to get rid of it without making Kefka furious at her. It couldn't stay here, though. She would never sleep again if she had to keep such a horrid reminder around.

Kefka surely wasn't a murderer, though. She knew that couldn't be true. Everyone who said so was a liar. His own story about the doll couldn't be true, either. It couldn't be.

Terra burned the doll a week later. That was all she could think to do with it when someone could too easily find it if she tossed it out the window or threw it in the trash or left it somewhere about the palace. Not only might Kefka find out what she had done, but someone else might realize where it had come from and what _he_ had done in order for it to come into his possession. She hadn't any idea _how_ they might know, but they might, and she couldn't let anyone find out. She couldn't let anyone find out what he had done.

It didn't burn as well as she expected, though, and while the dress had turned to ash, the body remained as a blackened mess with short, badly singed hair, and she started crying before he even arrived home.

She had never seen him so angry before, and she stayed silent as he yelled at her, calling her an ungrateful brat and questioning why he put up with her, and she wondered how much of it she deserved. She _had_ destroyed what he had given her, after all. He was only trying to be nice, and she had set his present on fire. Maybe she _was_ ungrateful, especially when it wasn't that often that he showed her affection anymore.

But, she didn't think she deserved to be hit. No, she didn't deserve that at all. It was the third time he had ever done so, and she began to cry harder than ever as she struggled out of his grip and ran out into the hallway, only to stop when she realized that she had nowhere to go. She couldn't go back in there, and she couldn't go to Dr. Cid, either, or else he would know what had happened. There were enough rumors going around about him as it was without them thinking he even hurt the people he cared about. If they knew that, they'd start to think he was an evil person. But, he wasn't. He wasn't.

Kefka wasn't a bad person.

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This chapter turned out much better than I expected. I liked the idea of even Kefka's nicer acts being tarnished by some unspeakable thing he had done. This was also another chapter that was in the original version of my story, just like the one about the nightmares. Yeah, anyway, please review.


	13. Chapter 13: The Slave Crown

It's time for what you knew was coming all along.

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**Chapter 13: The Slave Crown**

Kefka had been of a most unusual disposition lately. He had been for several weeks now, even more so than was typical for him, and Terra had caught him eyeing her with what she was quite certain was suspicion on more than one occasion, even though she hadn't the slightest idea what it was he thought she had done. There were plenty of times he would destroy things when he was throwing a fit, including dismembering or incinerating his dolls, only to later blame her for the damage, and she could never be certain if he had really forgotten what he had done and truly believed she was at fault or if he was just doing it to be mean, and she had been around his new self for long enough now to know that either theory had an equal chance of being correct.

And then, without warning, his mood would switch to one that was a bit easier to deal with, even if it still made her feel just as awkward, and he would pet her hair and tell her that she was the loveliest of all his dolls, but no matter what sort of mood he was in, she had learned that the best thing to do was to just stay silent.

That was the very reason why she hadn't dared say a word when Dr. Cid had visited a few days ago, no more than she thought she could get away with, at least. It wasn't like he had stayed long anyway, not after he had started asking too many questions about the bruise on her cheek, and Kefka had screamed at him to get out, along with all kinds of threats she didn't want to think about and the reminder that Dr. Cid had already given her up, and he wouldn't stand to have her taken from him now. She was _his_ property and no one else's.

Dr. Cid was shaking by the time he managed to find the doorknob, a more difficult task when he didn't dare take his eyes off his assailant, and it was fortunate Kefka's door was kept guarded so that he couldn't follow Dr. Cid out into the hallway. And like always, Terra remained silent and huddled up on her sofa, suppressing sniffles and tears she couldn't let fall, or else she might draw attention to herself next. She felt terrible for Dr. Cid. She really did. But, it was nice it wasn't her for once.

He was still fuming over the whole thing even after a full day had passed.

Today, however, Terra hadn't seen Kefka at all since he had left early that morning, and he had yet to return even once afternoon had come and gone, and she wondered what he'd be in a foul mood over when he got home this time. Any number of things made him difficult to deal with, including having to talk to Dr. Cid (though, he would likely be avoiding Kefka for some time now), having to talk to General Leo, or even the weather being too warm or him having a stomachache or chipped nail polish. She could make it into a game if she hadn't been so busy hoping against hope he'd return happy for once. He was never happy anymore. She tried her best, but she couldn't make him happy anymore, either. Nothing could.

It took her several moments to confirm to herself that Kefka was indeed smiling when he got home not long before nightfall, and it wasn't even his painted smile, either. Now the only question was _why_ he was happy. Her eyes darted to a plain, black box he held in his hands and then back up at him as he sat beside her on her sofa. He was much too close. It wasn't a comfort anymore when he was close.

"I have a present for you, my dear," he said, and she chewed on her lower lip as he lifted the lid and took out what appeared to be some kind of crown. That didn't look at all like the kind of presents he normally brought her, and just looking at it gave her the strangest feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"What is it?" she said.

"You want to be a good girl, don't you?" Kefka said as he brushed a few stray strands of her hair back behind her ear. "You want to keep being my favorite doll, my pretty thing?"

"I…I thought I _already_ was a good girl."

He giggled and gave a slow shake of his head, though his pale eyes never left her. "Oh, my poor dear, how clueless you are. You _are_ a good doll, but I've found a way you can be a _better_ one. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"But, what _is_ it?"

He frowned at her and cleared his throat. "It really doesn't matter _what_ it is. All that matters is what it _does_. This crown will make you a most obedient doll, and then you can be by my side and see the world instead of being cooped up in here all the time."

"I-I don't understand."

He sniffed. "You really don't get it, do you? Once this crown is on your head, you won't even _think_ of disobeying me again. And then I won't have to get angry at you anymore. And that, you have to agree, would be better for both of us."

"Oh. I-I see..." Her eyes dropped to her lap. If he wanted more from her, he should've just said so. Her gaze returned to him and stayed there this time. "Will it…make me forget?"

He tilted his head. "Why?"

"You have plenty of things _you_ wish you could forget, don't you?"

He grew silent, the haze she had become so used to seeing in his eyes leaving him for a second, and he nodded. "Yes. It will make you forget. It will make you forget _everything_."

Terra didn't struggle when he set the crown upon her head. Not as much as one would expect. She still didn't think Kefka was a bad person, though. At least, he hadn't always been that way. But, in order to forget the part of him she didn't want to remember, she had to forget all of him.

* * *

My goodness, what is wrong with me? I wrote such a depressing story, didn't I? No good ending at all, though frankly, the events that take place during the game are hardly any better. Kefka, you fiend…

Well, depressing or no, I do hope you enjoyed my little story, nevertheless, and I implore you to please review and tell me what you thought of it.


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